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The female executioner for Numerus Brittonum et Exploratorum Nemanigensium

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A last job to be done. The executioner will nail Messaline’s titulus, still hanging around her neck. The executioner gets a ladder, leans it against the Patibulum of Messaline's cross, climbs up some rungs, bends over to her, and takes the sign. She looks angered, as if she is not satisfied about the men’s work and has to do the job herself to have it finished.


View attachment 806651 Though that my pain is unbearable, I can yet think ; I wonder why all that ? If I didn't meet this rebel Loxuru, perhaps that I could reach Rome and , meet Dena in other circumstances ; Yes, of course, her naked breasts are attracting and if I wasn't nailed to this horrible cross, it certainly will be a delice to have them into my hands, to lick them, to caress them and , step to step, going farer till a wonderful love session , bringing us to the ecstasy ... :rolleyes:
But, alas, it's too late ... I'll be soon dying, only hoping that I could reach this ancient place that , in Britanny, we thought existing , the "Tuatha Dé Danann" , or the "Mag Meld" (Pleasure'Land) ...

Messaline and Loxuru are giving us deep insights into a condemned victims soul and the thoughts that come across their minds while they face execution. This to me is absolutely unique. It takes so much empathy to let the reader be a part of it, to write open about it despite all that shame.

The contemplations out of the perspective of the crucified help us to understand that these roman executions were not just a great entertainment spectacle to the onlookers, but also must have triggered the emotions of the executed randomly.

The naked dying are mentally out of control, while the bodies are exposed. Now isn't that hilarious...........

Thank you so very much Messaline and Loxuru, for giving us the chance to participate.
 
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Viewing that I've difficulties to breathe, I cant tell us , but I can yet think ...


But my shame is completely invading my thoughts ...

View attachment 795135
This is such an amazing statement. Shame is completely invading your thoughts. I'm wondering if you will communicate that to the people that are attending your crucifixion. For me it's absolutely arousing, to learn what the cross is doing to you. It looks like your crucifixion is a success.......
 
Viewing that I've difficulties to breathe, I cant tell us , but I can yet think ...
I wonder why these people are coming to see me , suffering to this horrible thing that they call "a cross" ?
Oh, I know well that people are generally attracted by all what is not usual and that they like to see the pain of the others ...
But it's not only a pain ! A pain could be limited to a whipping ... there, it's litterally the worst ! All is prepared to make the victim slowly suffering to her death and into the worst conditions ; yes, I'm nailed (how they can nail a woman alive to a piece of wood ? That's monstrous !), I cant move , or not much ... I'm always moaning , the pain is unberable but I cant escape , only trying to stay alive some moments more ...
And they are joking me , describing my body with many degrading words ( pussy, primitive, even heathen , lewd girl...)
Some of them are clearly telling that they could rape me , that I'm only good for that !

Yes, I see them very near of me : I see what the humanity has like the worst !
I cry, turned into myself , in a kind of interiority ... My body is there, twisting on the cross, fixed by three nails to a piece of wood , but my spirit is elsewhere ... I dont know where ...

But my shame is completely invading my thoughts ...

Thanks to Messaline for this fantastic description of the thoughts of a female crucifix! Very horny for me!
 
DENA:

LOXURU RAISED WITH THE PATIBULUM

......the rioter doesn't seem that dangerous anymore. With the back he is lying on his Patibulum, his chest slowly moving up and down as he is inhaling and exhaling. The stretched position on the Patibulum nicely exposing his ribs, causing the whipmarks to bleed again.

I walk over to the guards to take another sip of posca. The alcohol really is relaxing me. It's nicely smothering my emotions, helping me to keep the pleasure under control.

"Lift that man up", I advise.

Immediately three of the guards are picking Loxuru up to put him on his feet. Sweat is running down the victims body and face in streams. I let him have some posca, too. Knowing that the most strenious part of his crucifixion lies right ahead of the condemned.

The men that hold the Patibulum, are also supporting Loxuru's arms and balance the crossbeam while they move the victim cautious with the back against the Stipes. Hectorius has leaned a ladder from the rear to the upright, stepping onto the first rung, while one of the guards is bending over to assist Loxuru with his feet.

"Lift him up and unite the crossbeam with the upright", Hectorius can be heard while supporting Loxuru's head.

Only a few inches is the body with the Patibulum moving up along the Stipes, and then connected to the upright. The man in charge of the legs, who is landing the feet on the footrest can be heard saying:

"Very good Loxuru. Exactly, bring your heels all the way back to the Stipes and don't worry that your feet are actually a few inches longer then the footrest. Very nice, hold yourself like that. Once Dena has fixed your feet you can then get additional support, by stepping with the forefeet onto the nails. The nails will hold everything in place. You can choose if you want to push up with the heels, or if you want to step onto the metal. It will work out fine for you and for us. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Right away Loxuru is searching for hold with his heels. Instinctively placing his feet side by side on the footrest, straightening his legs to release the wrists.

The glistening victim meanwhile is silently looking around. Checking me out, checking Messaline out, is glancing over to Lucia, who is still sitting on the ground next to her Patibulum and her Stipes, that is already secured in the ground.

Obviously Lucia has regained energy and shouts:

"These rebels deserve the punishment. They deserve to die on their crosses. But I haven't done anything wrong. You have flogged me Dena. You didn't allow me to wear a loincloth during the march. That is humiliating enough, and the people had lots of fun. But I'm sure that it's a misunderstanding. You all didn't get my owner right."

Then some of the slaves from Lucia's household scream:

"No misunderstanding Lucia. Our landlord is sending you to hell, and he knows why. Cover your fat tits as long as you can. They will soon raise your ass up to die, then with outstretched arms, that's not possible for you anymore."

The statement caused laughter all over the place. Lucia is sitting there, covering her nipples poorly with her fingertips. Even I can't help it and step laughing in front of Loxuru, who is standing on the footrest with locked knees.

One must understand, that the platform of the footrest measures about 6 x 6 inches. The feet are reaching well over that support. A fact that I have to consider very closely, when I drive the nails through his feet.......
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

CIRE:

PhilX has posted this inspiring image a while ago. Thanks for doing so :).

Raised with the Patibulum.jpg

I enjoy it a lot, since it's so realistic. I wonder what the other condemned like Lucia, and the already crucified Messaline feel, since they have the chance to watch it......
 
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I enjoy it a lot, since it's so realistic. I wonder what the other condemned like Lucia, and the already crucified Messaline feel, since they have the chance to watch it......

Messaline thoughts ...

"Wooooo! Though that I terribly suffer, those nails that attach me to these woods! How one can inflict such torment on someone? Especially a woman!
I was promised to a good life, meeting a Roman perhaps, make him children and we would have lived in a beautiful villa in the Roman countryside ...
Why did I follow this Loxurus? He deserves what it happens to him, he has led me with him in his madness: wanting to fight Rome
... and with poems!
Suffer now Loxurus, you will never suffer enough to redeem yourself!
Dena nailed his feet on either side of the cross: it hurts more and that's all the best!
Woooo! I think of the nails and it reminds me of mine! My God they hurt!
I'm here, exposed naked and suffering to people who like to see the torments ...
From time to time, a man dares to approach; The soldiers lets it happens ; then he plunges his hand into my privacy and shouts:

"She's wet the bitch!" she's wet.jpg

The crowd applauds, Dena smiles and the soldiers burst out laughing!
Everything is good to humiliate me ...
The evening approaches and a soldier takes a firebrand in the fire: he comes towards me and begins to pass it on my body: I scream, but weakly in pain ... It lingers on my breasts, and a smoke of burnt flesh rises in the evening ...
Suddenly, he puts it on my pubic hair that immediately ignites, and then, having cleared my clitoris, he burns it with sadism!
Finally, having enjoyed enough of his tortures, he pushes the firebrand into my vagina!


Arching my body, I loudly scream ...

burned firebrandon.jpg

Admire, Loxurus, now that you cant move and that you're obliged to see me , admire what you have made !!! "
 
Admire, Loxurus, now that you cant move and that you're obliged to see me , admire what you have made !!! "
I still know a few jokes about the Emperor, I could tell!:angel2:

My very last performance! I'll call it : 'Loxuru! Nail-sharp from the cross!' An exceptional and unique show! The ultimate poetry! Free speech, no restrictions, only the bare naked truth! Come and watch it, people!:campeon2:
 
Messaline thoughts ...

"Wooooo! Though that I terribly suffer, those nails that attach me to these woods! How one can inflict such torment on someone? Especially a woman!
I was promised to a good life, meeting a Roman perhaps, make him children and we would have lived in a beautiful villa in the Roman countryside ...
Why did I follow this Loxurus? He deserves what it happens to him, he has led me with him in his madness: wanting to fight Rome
... and with poems!
Suffer now Loxurus, you will never suffer enough to redeem yourself!
Dena nailed his feet on either side of the cross: it hurts more and that's all the best!
Woooo! I think of the nails and it reminds me of mine! My God they hurt!
I'm here, exposed naked and suffering to people who like to see the torments ...
From time to time, a man dares to approach; The soldiers lets it happens ; then he plunges his hand into my privacy and shouts:

"She's wet the bitch!" View attachment 816400

The crowd applauds, Dena smiles and the soldiers burst out laughing!
Everything is good to humiliate me ...
The evening approaches and a soldier takes a firebrand in the fire: he comes towards me and begins to pass it on my body: I scream, but weakly in pain ... It lingers on my breasts, and a smoke of burnt flesh rises in the evening ...
Suddenly, he puts it on my pubic hair that immediately ignites, and then, having cleared my clitoris, he burns it with sadism!
Finally, having enjoyed enough of his tortures, he pushes the firebrand into my vagina!


Arching my body, I loudly scream ...

View attachment 816401

Admire, Loxurus, now that you cant move and that you're obliged to see me , admire what you have made !!! "
Absolutely amazing Messaline. Your comments are showing us, that the crucifixion is not finished, once the Titulus is attached. As long as the victim is conscious, there is constantly physical and emotional stress for the dying. Just to watch the crucifixions of the other condemned, or to take a glance at the scenery means pure horror....

It takes so much courage to speak open about the emotions that a crucified has to endure. In the past all these discussions have been locked in by the Vatican, used exclusively for the pleasure of the clergy.
 
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DENA:

NAILING LOXURU'S FEET

....... he is standing on his footrest with locked knees, to release his wrists. In his case I will attach each foot separately. Reaching into the bag with the nails, I'm picking two out and also grab his seat plug. These nails are not much longer than maybe five inches. Those have that very charactaristic bigger nailhead, forged especially for crucifixions at the fort's smithy.

A little behind Loxuru, the naked dead from yesterday's executions are hanging, heads tilted down. One could suppose that even though the crucified are dead, they still have to turn down their eyes in total shame. I'm wondering why they are all naked. Haven't the slaves been executed with the loincloth on? Yesterday I wiped my hands with Daniela's loincloth, today I see her hanging without it. Later when I have time, I will check closer.

Hectorius has used one long spike to fix Cires feet yesterday. That spike went in from the top of the ankle of his upper foot, to finally come out of the heel of the bottom one, went from there into the Stipes. Hectorius didn't nail it in all the way. No need to do that. Once it's maybe an inch deep in the wood, the fixation is normally completed. In front of Cire, his partner Andrea is "sitting". During the night the rain has washed most of the dirt off the corpses, giving the folks here a good exemplary impression what it means to get crucified.

All the eyes are on Loxuru. Messaline is watching silently from her cross, the spectators are focused, the Legionaires check it out and laugh. Only the five that got executed yesterday don't take notice.

I step in front of Loxuru:

"I'll nail your feet with two nails. First I would like to attach a seat for you, to later give you an opportunity to take your body weight off the nails. Even when you are dead, your body will stay on it. Take a look at the criminal Cire there, even his Penis is still resting on the peg."
For a second he turns his head to take a glance, then his eyes are back on me.

Since he is nicely standing on his footrest to release the wrists, I take my chance to place the peg between his thighs. That thing is some 15 inches long and also has a spike on one end for fixation. Completely ignoring that Loxuru's Penis is currently dangling down, I move his greasy balls and cock to the side, place the plug a few inches below his crotch, and hammer it into the Stipes.
Immediately he is sitting down on it, testicles and cock hanging down to the side, while leaning his back against the Stipes.

I advise two Legionaires to secure his feet. One of them is picking up Loxuru's loincloth, to cover the Penis:

"Just in case Dena. I don't want him to piss on us when you nail his feet."

My reply:

"I don't think he will piss. When I nailed the wrists he just squirted a little. That was all. But no problem. In that way we are safe."

Kneeling down, I search the spot where to place the nail. It will go in between the first and second metatarsal, right at the shafts of the bones.
Looking up to the victims face from below I ask him:

"Are you ready?"

Hectorius is by now standing on the ladder behind the condemned, to keep Loxuru's head away from the wood, despite that the sweating victim nods.

Clak. Through the flesh of his right foot, the tip to the wood of the footrest. Loxuru is shivering. Clak, clak. The nail goes into the wood, fixing the bones.
Still the Legionaire is covering the cock, while the other one is holding the left foot in place. Loxuru is breathing heavily, moaning as the nail is separating the first and second metatarsal.

Clak, clak, clak. The second nail is securing his left foot. Loxuru is looking down on us. His eyes are wandering to his wrists, down his body where the Legionaire is still covering his cock with the fibre that was his loincloth, over to Messaline, finally to the laughing and screaming crowd.

A female spectator can be heard:

"Take that rag away Legionaire. We want to see if he will have an erection. If so, we want to see his cock rising."

He replies laughing:

"Here you go," pulls the rag away and says: "When they are dead we will celebrate at the tavern. My cock will still be alright then. It would be good to meet you there."

The Legionaires and I get up and step back to see if our work is well done.
While Loxuru is inhaling, his Penis slowly rises. To make sure that he doesn't squeeze his balls, he is lifting himself up, to correct his position.......
 

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I lay on my back, nailed with my wrists to the patibulum. As this part is done, the executioner gets herself another sip of posca.

"Lift that man up", that woman executioner says.

Immediately three of the guards put me on my feet. I have no choice, they simply lift up the patibulum, with me, by my wrists nailed to it. I must follow, if I don’t want to suffer unbearable pain by the nails. My stomach turns, my head gets dizzy. Sweat is running all over my face and body. I work to stay right up, standing very shaky on my feet. The weight of that patibulum in my neck does not help either to remain stable. Fortunately, the patibulum and my arms are supported by the guards.

I get some posca. It helps me a little bit. Enough to make me realize that these are the very last steps I will ever walk. It even surprises me that I still can walk in my situation. And how submissive I am behaving, walking so obediently (for a moment, I consider making a swing with my upper body, smashing that patibulum against these savage dumbhead rapist guard’s dumb heads, as a little payback for everything). But it is a bad idea, and the patibulum feels heavy and I am afraid I am too weak to carry out that little vicious plan.

The men guide me to the stipes and move me with my back to it. Hectorius has put up a ladder from the rear to the upright, stepping onto the first rung, while one of the guards is bending over to assist me with my feet.

"Lift him up and unite the crossbeam with the upright".

While Hectorius supports my head, the patibulum (with its human load) is lifted up and attached to the stipes. It immediately causes another situation, as, with my feet lifted from the ground (forever!), I am hanging with my body weight to the nails. It stretches me out, opening some of the whip marks. It is just a few inches above the ground. But it makes a lot of difference. Then, my feet are put on the footrest by a guard.

"Very good Loxuru! He says. “Exactly, bring your heels all the way back to the Stipes and don't worry that your feet are actually a few inches longer then the footrest. Very nice, hold yourself like that. Once Dena has fixed your feet you can then get additional support, by stepping with the forefeet onto the step. The nails will hold everything in place. You can choose if you want to push up with the heels, or if you want to step onto the metal. It will work out fine for you and for us. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

(‘Fun”!? ‘Idiot!’, I think). But actually, I have little choice, as, instinctively, I search for hold with my heels, placing my feet side by side on the footrest, straightening my legs to release the painful strain on my nailed wrists.

Once my feet have found rest, I look around. Checking the executioner out, checking Messaline out, glancing over to Lucia, who is still sitting on the ground next to her Patibulum and her Stipes, that is already secured in the ground. I wait what comes next.

Lucia has regained energy and protests again, stating that Messaline and me deserve our punishment as rebels, but that she has done nothing wrong, and that she is treated with too much humiliation. But all she causes is laughter, mostly among the slaves from her own household.


Their reaction drives Lucia back in defense. She sits down again, head down, covering her nipples poorly with her fingertips. Dena founds it amusing. Still laughing, she steps in front of me, clearly studying how she will place the nails in my feet. She picks out two more nails from the bag and grabs a piece of wood intended as my seat plug.

Standing on my footrest with locked knees, to relieve my wrists, I have the feeling that all the eyes are on me now. Lucia, still trying to cover her modesty, Messaline watching silently from her cross (difficult to judge her mind now), the spectators, the Legionnaires. It feels like even the crucified dead, behind me, do so!

The executioner steps in front of me :

"I'll nail your feet with two nails. First I would like to attach a seat for you, to later give you an opportunity to take your body weight off the nails. Even when you are dead, your body will stay on it. Take a look at the criminal Cire there, even his penis is still resting on the peg."

For a moment, I stare backward to take a glance, but I hardly can see the dead from my current position.

Meanwhile, the executioner prepares to place the peg between my thighs. That thing is some 15 inches long and also has a spike on one end for fixation. Now, that is a scaring thought, nailing that, too close for comfort to a very sensitive organ. For a moment, my whole body stiffens. She grabs my balls and cock and pushes them aside, places the plug a few inches below my crotch, and hammers it into the Stipes. The grabbing and the hammering almost feel as terrible as a straight kick on my balls. I keep my breath, out of fear, any time the hammer falls.
As it is fixed, I immediately sit down on it, while, relieved from the hanging, I lean my back against the Stipes.

She advises two Legionnaires to secure my feet. One of them is picking up my loincloth, to cover my penis:

"Just in case Dena. I don't want him to piss on us when you nail his feet."

She replies :

"I don't think he will piss. When I nailed the wrists he just squirted a little. That was all. But no problem. In that way we are safe."

Kneeling down, she searches the spot where to place the nail.

Hectorius Is still holding my head, a Legionnaire holds my right foot.

She looks up and asks me :

"Are you ready?"

A little bit confusing question, but she does not await my answer!

Clak. Through the flesh of my right foot, the tip to the wood of the footrest. The first blow makes me shiver upward, shouting from the intense pain, even more intense than in my wrists. But I am missing the energy to keep shouting. Clak, clak. The nail goes into the wood, fixing my bones, splitting them apart. I breathe heavily, keep moaning as the nail is going deeper and deeper, I shake my head. I don’t want this to happen. Then, it is fixed.

I am given no time to recover! Clak, clak, clak. The second nail is securing my left foot. Again threatening hammer blows. I keep moaning! I ask them to stop, but my words are muffled by my confused moaning.

Another ordeal of pain. I try to get away from it, to withdraw my foot, but it is strangely restrained already.

Then, it is over!

I look down. Then, my eyes wander to my wrists, down my body where the Legionnaire is still holding that loincloth, over to Messaline, finally to the laughing and screaming crowd.

A female spectator shouts:

"Take that rag away Legionnaire. We want to see if he will have an erection. If so, we want to see his cock rising."

The Legionnaire replies laughing:

"Here you go," pulls the rag away and says: "When they are dead we will celebrate at the tavern. My cock will still be alright then. It would be good to meet you there."

The executioner and the guards get up and step back, to see if their work is well done.

While they so, it runs to my head, with disbelieve : “I am crucified!”
 
I lay on my back, nailed with my wrists to the patibulum. As this part is done, the executioner gets herself another sip of posca.

"Lift that man up", that woman executioner says.

Immediately three of the guards put me on my feet. I have no choice, they simply lift up the patibulum, with me, by my wrists nailed to it. I must follow, if I don’t want to suffer unbearable pain by the nails. My stomach turns, my head gets dizzy. Sweat is running all over my face and body. I work to stay right up, standing very shaky on my feet. The weight of that patibulum in my neck does not help either to remain stable. Fortunately, the patibulum and my arms are supported by the guards.

I get some posca. It helps me a little bit. Enough to make me realize that these are the very last steps I will ever walk. It even surprises me that I still can walk in my situation. And how submissive I am behaving, walking so obediently (for a moment, I consider making a swing with my upper body, smashing that patibulum against these savage dumbhead rapist guard’s dumb heads, as a little payback for everything). But it is a bad idea, and the patibulum feels heavy and I am afraid I am too weak to carry out that little vicious plan.

The men guide me to the stipes and move me with my back to it. Hectorius has put up a ladder from the rear to the upright, stepping onto the first rung, while one of the guards is bending over to assist me with my feet.

"Lift him up and unite the crossbeam with the upright".

While Hectorius supports my head, the patibulum (with its human load) is lifted up and attached to the stipes. It immediately causes another situation, as, with my feet lifted from the ground (forever!), I am hanging with my body weight to the nails. It stretches me out, opening some of the whip marks. It is just a few inches above the ground. But it makes a lot of difference. Then, my feet are put on the footrest by a guard.

"Very good Loxuru! He says. “Exactly, bring your heels all the way back to the Stipes and don't worry that your feet are actually a few inches longer then the footrest. Very nice, hold yourself like that. Once Dena has fixed your feet you can then get additional support, by stepping with the forefeet onto the step. The nails will hold everything in place. You can choose if you want to push up with the heels, or if you want to step onto the metal. It will work out fine for you and for us. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

(‘Fun”!? ‘Idiot!’, I think). But actually, I have little choice, as, instinctively, I search for hold with my heels, placing my feet side by side on the footrest, straightening my legs to release the painful strain on my nailed wrists.

Once my feet have found rest, I look around. Checking the executioner out, checking Messaline out, glancing over to Lucia, who is still sitting on the ground next to her Patibulum and her Stipes, that is already secured in the ground. I wait what comes next.

Lucia has regained energy and protests again, stating that Messaline and me deserve our punishment as rebels, but that she has done nothing wrong, and that she is treated with too much humiliation. But all she causes is laughter, mostly among the slaves from her own household.


Their reaction drives Lucia back in defense. She sits down again, head down, covering her nipples poorly with her fingertips. Dena founds it amusing. Still laughing, she steps in front of me, clearly studying how she will place the nails in my feet. She picks out two more nails from the bag and grabs a piece of wood intended as my seat plug.

Standing on my footrest with locked knees, to relieve my wrists, I have the feeling that all the eyes are on me now. Lucia, still trying to cover her modesty, Messaline watching silently from her cross (difficult to judge her mind now), the spectators, the Legionnaires. It feels like even the crucified dead, behind me, do so!

The executioner steps in front of me :

"I'll nail your feet with two nails. First I would like to attach a seat for you, to later give you an opportunity to take your body weight off the nails. Even when you are dead, your body will stay on it. Take a look at the criminal Cire there, even his penis is still resting on the peg."

For a moment, I stare backward to take a glance, but I hardly can see the dead from my current position.

Meanwhile, the executioner prepares to place the peg between my thighs. That thing is some 15 inches long and also has a spike on one end for fixation. Now, that is a scaring thought, nailing that, too close for comfort to a very sensitive organ. For a moment, my whole body stiffens. She grabs my balls and cock and pushes them aside, places the plug a few inches below my crotch, and hammers it into the Stipes. The grabbing and the hammering almost feel as terrible as a straight kick on my balls. I keep my breath, out of fear, any time the hammer falls.
As it is fixed, I immediately sit down on it, while, relieved from the hanging, I lean my back against the Stipes.

She advises two Legionnaires to secure my feet. One of them is picking up my loincloth, to cover my penis:

"Just in case Dena. I don't want him to piss on us when you nail his feet."

She replies :

"I don't think he will piss. When I nailed the wrists he just squirted a little. That was all. But no problem. In that way we are safe."

Kneeling down, she searches the spot where to place the nail.

Hectorius Is still holding my head, a Legionnaire holds my right foot.

She looks up and asks me :

"Are you ready?"

A little bit confusing question, but she does not await my answer!

Clak. Through the flesh of my right foot, the tip to the wood of the footrest. The first blow makes me shiver upward, shouting from the intense pain, even more intense than in my wrists. But I am missing the energy to keep shouting. Clak, clak. The nail goes into the wood, fixing my bones, splitting them apart. I breathe heavily, keep moaning as the nail is going deeper and deeper, I shake my head. I don’t want this to happen. Then, it is fixed.

I am given no time to recover! Clak, clak, clak. The second nail is securing my left foot. Again threatening hammer blows. I keep moaning! I ask them to stop, but my words are muffled by my confused moaning.

Another ordeal of pain. I try to get away from it, to withdraw my foot, but it is strangely restrained already.

Then, it is over!

I look down. Then, my eyes wander to my wrists, down my body where the Legionnaire is still holding that loincloth, over to Messaline, finally to the laughing and screaming crowd.

A female spectator shouts:

"Take that rag away Legionnaire. We want to see if he will have an erection. If so, we want to see his cock rising."

The Legionnaire replies laughing:

"Here you go," pulls the rag away and says: "When they are dead we will celebrate at the tavern. My cock will still be alright then. It would be good to meet you there."

The executioner and the guards get up and step back, to see if their work is well done.

While they so, it runs to my head, with disbelieve : “I am crucified!”
Very interesting perspective, really nice to see you and Messaline crucified. I'd like to know what the spectators think.....
 
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The executioner and the guards get up and step back, to see if their work is well done.

Meanwhile, it runs to my head, with disbelieve : “I am crucified!”

I just got nailed to a cross! I can move no longer! There is just suffering.

I see the executioner and the guards ‘admire’ their work : me, nailed to a cross. They look satisfied about it!

Slowly inhaling, resting on the peg, I look at them.

Their work is well done! It is done! They have just dehumanized me, after they did the same to Messaline, and what are they displaying? Job satisfaction!

In a strange sense of delirium, from the posca, from the shock of the treatment, I feel like being the focus of it all. Despite the complete despair of my situation, there is something arousing about it! Crucifixion is a common sentence by the Romans, but I always had ignored it! It was cruelty, but those subjected to it, mostly had deserved it! Just to say : it were always ‘others’ who got crucified, and I never had considered the possibility that it would have happened to me once. Yes, when I passed along a crucifixion site, it had occurred to me to think, how these unfortunate condemned were feeling!

Now that, unexpectedly, in just two days, my luck has made a fatal turn, which made me end up on my own cross, I am experiencing it all myself! I can find out the answer how it feels! And I tell you, it is an agonizing, humiliating and painful experience, being treated and executed like a criminal. It goes so deep into the mind, that, when confronted with the looks of the executioner and the guards, the feeling of being, in all my pain and exposure, the focus of so much attention, the object of their work, my naked body publically nailed to wood, visible for all, causes an arousing delirium. While I face them, I sit on that peg, slowly but deeply inhaling, I feel my penis slowly rising. I have to lift up myself, since the peg is not a comfort seat and I feel my balls being squeeze. It takes some effort and pain to rise up. My feet search the footrest for support. But in my delirious mind, it is worth the pain at this moment, to show all these folks that, although their work is done properly, I can still rise above the dehumanization they inflicted to me. Or rather, that I turn my dehumanization into a show of strength! Look at me! Look at this stupid creature that defied the Emperor with poetry, and pays the ultimate price for it! Admire your work! Joined to my cross, I am a piece of craftsmanship…

“Admire, Loxurus, now that you can’t move and that you're obliged to see me, admire what you have made !!!”

That’s Messaline who shouts at me in anger. There are taunting shouts from the crowd, who has spotted my erection, and mock the total uselessness of it.

The effort of standing upright becomes too hard to bear for longer. I lower myself on the peg again, sweating, shivering.

The executioner and the guards throw a last glance on me. They have more work to do. Soon, poor Lucia will join Messaline and me on her cross.
 
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... Look at me! Look at this stupid creature that defied the Emperor with poetry, and pays the ultimate price for it! Admire your work! Joined to my cross, I am a piece of craftsmanship…

... and look at what you did of Messaline in training her , following your aura of poet ! You rather would do better in upholding her in her outrageous pain !
 

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DENA:

TAKING A BREAK, WATCHING MY WORK.

Messaline and Loxuru are hanging on their crosses. The two are fussing with each other and the crowd in front of them. I can't help it. I have to laugh out loud as most of the attending people. One of the Legionaires is preparing the Titulus for Loxuru while he is screaming at the guards:

" ... Look at me! Look at this stupid creature that defied the Emperor with poetry, and pays the ultimate price for it! Admire your work! Joined to my cross, I am a piece of craftsmanship… "

Messaline on the other hand yelling at Loxuru:

"... and look at what you did of Messaline in training her , following your aura of poet ! You rather would do better in upholding her in her outrageous pain ! "

While the sweat is running down between my tits, I'm taking a zip of posca and talk to them:

"You both better look at yourself and keep calm. I don't know if you have noticed. It's a hot day and both of you are sweating like crazy. Pretty soon you will have cramps. I'm curious, if your nailed limbs will stay in place the way I want it. Right now the nails fit tight, and the holes are not widened. When you check out the dead from yesterday, you can see that the wounds have more than double the seize of yours. Andrea and Cire, by the way, have dug their thumbs into the palm of their hands. I don't understand that, since the nails keep the crucified in place very well. No need to be scared that something goes wrong....."

As the two glance at the nails holding feet and wrists and try to get a glimpse of the corpses behind them, I walk over to Lucia who is sitting naked on the ground and kick her:

"You shut up bitch, you will get what you deserve very fast."

Then I scream at the Legionaires:

"Is Loxuru's Titulus ready........"
 
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